Center of the Universe
by emotional-static
Summary: PreRENT. CH. 3 as of 2-22. Before RENT, they were just seven strangers living in the East Village with different perspectives on life. This is the story of how everything that we know of came to be, years before that fateful Christmas Eve and beyond.
1. The Final Summer

CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE

A/N: Alright, this story has been festering around on my computer for a good quantity of time. This actually is the prequel to _November_ that a few of you were asking me to post when I brought it up in an author's note. It's not required at all that you read _November_ to understand this story, because it will involve each and every one of our beloved RENT characters at one time or another. Yes, that means **Mimi** and **Angel**! I haven't written for **Angel** lately and I'm very excited about that! They both make appearances sooner than you may think. With that said, this is very pre RENT. Fresh out of high school Mark and Roger. If you do happen to enjoy this, leave me a review, because those will affect my decision in whether or not I continue with this.

Enjoy, and as the great Angel once said: _New York City, center of the universe…_

*                            *                     *                       *

AUGUST 1989 

"How long do you think we'll be friends?"

Eighteen-year-old Roger Davis took another drag from the cigarette he was holding and blew the smoke out. "I don't know. I never really thought about it. A long time, maybe. It depends. People change."

Mark Cohen nodded and adjusted the air conditioner vent in his best friend's car. "Yeah well. I think people change because they want to. Not because it just happens."

Roger laughed and stopped at the corner, glancing both ways before making the turn onto the street. "Okay Mark."

"Hey, I'm just saying." He glanced down briefly at the cigarette in Roger's hand. "Your mom's gonna smell that all over you."

"It doesn't matter. She knows anyway. Plus, I've been an "adult" since October. I'm legal, I do what the fuck I want to," Roger joked. Still, he did crush the cigarette out in the ashtray and opened the window to air the car out. "Do you want me to get Jen first? Or do you want to go back to your house and get the rest of your boxes?"

"Well, if we get Jen first and then get my boxes we can get onto I-95 before three. We'd be in Providence by six latest."

"We'll be there by five," Roger insisted. "Don't worry, I'll have you in your dorm and moved in by midnight."

"Let's just try to avoid getting pulled over on the highway, okay? No speeding and no crazy maneuvers, or I'm driving."

"Yeah." Roger turned down another street. He passed row after row of nearly identical houses before pulling into the driveway of a large, brown and white two-story house. "I'll be back in a second."

Mark started messing around with the radio station tuner. He passed through numerous stations full of static, news broadcasts, hip hop, classical, even country—before settling on the usual rock and top 40 station all the teenagers in Scarsdale listened to. 'Paradise City' by Guns 'N Roses floated out over the speakers, and he drummed his fingers along the car door to match the opening chords. 

He still couldn't get used to the fact that he and Roger were no longer seniors. Even though they had graduated two months previously—in June, Mark still felt like he was expected to walk back into the high school in two weeks to start another long year of overbearing homework assignments and wild parties. Not the case any longer. In a few short minutes, he would be on the road to Providence, Rhode Island, to start another four tedious years of school at Brown University. Hopefully when it was all over, he'd have some great filming internship to put on his resume. One could hope, anyway. 

Not even a minute later, Roger was heading back towards the car with his current girlfriend. Jennifer Walsh had graduated with them in June as well, and she and Roger had been together since January of their junior year. Jen was a petite girl, only about five foot three, and her shoulder length dark brown hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail. 

"Hey," she greeted Mark as she slid into the backseat somewhat gracefully. "Ready to go, college boy?"

Mark grinned. "You both talk like I'll never see either one of you again after this summer."

Roger climbed into the driver's seat and slowly backed out of the driveway. "You probably won't. Jen's going to NYU; you're stuck in Rhode Island. You've got another thing coming if you think I'm supposed to haul my ass almost three hours every weekend to see you," he laughed. "But I will supply the beer."

"That's okay. There'll be enough of that at the frat parties I'm planning to go to," Jen winked at him. 

Roger looked at her in the rear view mirror. "Not without me you're not."

"I'm just kidding. For someone that's not even going to college, you're so serious." She made a sad face back at him and he laughed again.

"Right. I told you that I'm trying to find an apartment in the city."

"Are you planning on buying it with the money you haven't saved up?" Mark asked him. "We're not in the seventeenth century anymore. The last time I checked, they don't take beer and cheese as a monthly payment."

Roger flipped him off before quickly pulling into Mark's driveway. "We'll see about that. You'll see. I'll get this great place and both of you will be begging to come live with me."

*                            *                           *                           *

Two hours later, they had pulled off the highway and were circling around Providence for what seemed like the fifth time.

Jen glanced at the street sign they had just passed over the map. "I don't know. We're going the right way, but I don't see any signs for the main dorms." She followed the route with her finger. "Turn left here, maybe?"

Roger did so, and Mark quickly saw a sign for the main campus, fraternity and sorority houses, and the administration building. "Slow down. We're in the right place, but we have to find the parking lot or whatever."

Jen pointed out the window at one of the tall, looming buildings. "You'll most likely need to check in there, so they can give you the key to the building. Plus for security purposes and everything." She laughed a little as she said this.

"What's so funny?" Mark turned his head and glanced at her.

She shook her head and folded up the map. "Nothing. I'm just surprised that your mother didn't beg to come with us. Seeing her little boy off and all, you know?"

Roger laughed and parked the car in a space. "The great Eva Cohen loosens her reigns. Surprising. I'm expecting pigs to fly any second now."

Mark ignored their comments and got out of the car. Roger and Jen followed suit and met him on the other side. "Her and my dad are coming up for open house next week. Remember? Do you both actually listen to anything that I say?"

"Of course we do." Jen linked her arm through Mark's. "I just wish you would have applied to NYU instead. This way we all could have lived in the city together."

He nodded. "Yeah well, if things don't work out, I could always transfer next semester."

"You should." Roger lit up another cigarette. "I'm telling you I'm getting an apartment. And then getting a job. Maybe they'll let me bartend or something."

"In your dreams maybe."

By six that evening Roger, Jen, and Mark were hauling boxes up to the third floor of one of the numerous dorm buildings lined in one row. Mark had checked in at the administration desk and gotten his building key, along with his mandatory packet that listed all the rules of the university and dorms. 

Jen comfortably stretched out on Mark's new bed and leafed through the packet. "No smoking, no drinking, no members of that opposite sex after eleven…wow Roger, you wouldn't be able to survive the first week," she joked.

Roger rolled his eyes as he and Mark started unpacking various items and putting them where they could fit. The dorm room was pretty large and airy, and was already occupied by another person. The opposite bed was unmade, and a mess of dirty laundry was sitting in a basket by that mystery person's dresser. "Not a clean freak?"

"Cleaner than what your room looks like at home," Mark remarked. He was starting to put some of his clothes away in his dresser. When he made it to the closet, he realized that whoever his roommate was, that person obviously had a hint that someone else was moving in. A section of the closet was left empty with a generous amount of hangers.

Roger walked over and fingered the clothes. "Sweaters, polo shirts, dress pants, khakis, loafers, vests…holy shit, what is this guy? My dad, or a prep? He doesn't even look like he owns a pair of sneakers."

"Be nice," Jen voiced from the bed. "Maybe the guy is really great. You never know."

"Yeah well, I wouldn't be caught dead in that wardrobe."

Just then, a tall man dressed in sweatpants and a tank top walked in. He was clutching a water bottle and had the appearance of someone that had just finished working out. He looked around and grinned. "What, is there a party and I'm not invited?" He spotted Jen on the bed and smiled some more. "Hello there. I wouldn't be so lucky to have you as my new roommate, would I?"

Jen shook her head and got up to stand by Roger, who wrapped his arm protectively around her waist. "Unfortunately, no."

"That would be me," Mark muttered from the closet. "Mark Cohen."

The man walked over to Mark and shook his hand politely. "Benjamin Coffin, but you can call me Benny. Nice to meet you."

"Uh, likewise." Mark shook his head and Roger smirked. Was this guy for real?

Benny kicked off his sneakers and tossed them in the closet. "Sorry for my part of the room looking like hell, but I had classes all day and then I ended up at the gym. Senior year's a bitch."

Mark removed his head from the closet to look back at Benny. "You're a senior?"

"Yeah. Aren't you?" Benny studied his new roommate for a second. "The resident advisor told me my new roommate was an upperclassmen."

"Well I guess he told you wrong, or they fucked something up along the way, because I'm a freshman. Or I will be in two weeks."

Benny grinned and sat down on his own bed. "You don't say? Maybe it won't be so bad. Usually I can't stand the freshman or the sophomores, but you seem to have yourself pretty together. Plus, I could actually show you the ropes."

Roger laughed. "Looks like you've got yourself a new best friend Mark."

Mark shot him a look. "I guess. You're taking summer classes?"

"Yeah. Just gives me something to do. I wasn't really expecting you until next week. That's when mostly everyone else shows up. It'll probably be just you, me, and a few others for the rest of this week. There's a big end of the summer party this weekend at the frat house. You should come. I'm part of the fraternity, so basically, I could sponsor you if you wanted to pledge."

"Uh, sure. Whatever you want." Mark couldn't believe how fast this guy was taking a liking towards him. He was practically talking his ear off.

Roger cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure it's really nice to meet you and all, but the three of us were about to go out and get something to eat."

"Oh, I'm sorry to keep you. Mark, it was great to meet you. And don't look so scared. Brown University isn't as bad as you think it is."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

Jen practically dragged Mark and Roger out of the dorm room and down the hall. "Could that guy have been anymore creepy?"

"Yeah really. I'd apply to get another room as soon as I could," Roger warned Mark.

"He doesn't seem that bad. He's pretty nice. A little talkative, but nice. I don't even know him yet."

"Exactly. Don't get to know him, this way you won't feel bad when you switch your room," Jen laughed. 

Roger waited for everyone to climb into his car and put on their seatbelts before backing out of the parking lot. "He was just weird."

Mark laughed and turned up the radio again. "Why? Because he dresses nice and has some character?"

Roger took his right hand off the steering wheel and smacked Mark in the back of the head. "Shut up. I can't even picture you pledging at a fraternity, letting alone being a brother of Pi Kappa whatever."

"Marky can hold his alcohol. That's got to be able to get him somewhere," Jen added from the backseat.

"I'm really interested in this apartment you think you're capable of finding, Rog. The last time I checked, this is New York City. Things ain't cheap, even for a wannabe rock musician like yourself."

"I'm telling you guys! I'm going to start looking tomorrow and when I find it, you're gonna be sorry that you went to college in the first place."

"So instead of college and furthering my education, I'd live in a place with you, where we'd sit around, party, smoke, and drink beer all day?" Mark drummed his fingers along the window.

"Now that's only on the weekends," Roger smirked. The same Guns 'N Roses song was blaring over the radio station and he turned it up louder. "Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty! Oh won't you please take me home!" 

"Dork," Mark warbled. "Please, I'd like to not be damaged before I start the fall semester."

"I'm going to have a great song like this one day," Roger shot back at him. "Along with a great apartment. You just wait and see."

*                         *                         *                           *

Review please! I know it's a little short, but it's only the beginning chapter. =]


	2. 11th Street and Avenue B

CHAPTER 2

A/N: Wow! In no particular order, thanks to **Kelby, Bearfeetz, Jan, Annala, the-fraulein, EMI, Amy, and Michelle**for the awesome reviews. I was a little unsure of posting this at first, thinking that no one would be really interested in it, but you all proved me wrong and now I'm glad that I went through with it.

For those of you looking for the next update of _Before You Wake_, that'll be up early this week, I promise. Sorry for the delay.

Enjoy! =]

*                      *                    *                    *

SEPTEMBER 1989

LABOR DAY WEEKEND

Roger walked down the cracked sidewalk that lined the majority of Avenue B. He certainly wasn't used to the inner city environment, and in fact, he was a little apprehensive. Sights in the East Village were a hell of a lot different then in the suburbs. Instead of perfectly manicured lawns and the sounds of kids laughing, there were people angrily chattering to each other. The grass was replaced by shops that practically sold anything you ever could need. Drug dealers haunted the corners, trying to hide themselves in the shadows where the addiction swelled like the pavement after a summer rain. And then there was the homeless that kept to themselves, often times dragging a bag or two of belongings behind them.

He clutched the newspaper clipping nervously in his pocket the further he got down the street, practically wishing the damn apartment building would jump out at him so he get himself out of his current surroundings. Consider there was a good chance he might be living here, he knew he damn well needed to get used to it sooner or later.

"Hey Mista, gotta dollar?"

Roger blinked as a heavyset homeless woman approached him. She was carrying two Macy's shopping bags and was shaking a generic plastic cup at him demandingly. He dug around in his pocket quickly, finally pulling out a crumpled dollar bill from his wallet. He dropped it in the woman's cup.

"Thanks," she said unenthusiastically, almost as if she were expecting more than he had just given her. "And a word of advice to you. Don't ever flash your wallet in this area again, honey. Unless you want yourself to get mugged."

"Oh yeah. Right." Roger shoved the wallet back into his leather jacket. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

The bag lady shook her head. "Huh. Well, best of luck to ya, baby doll. Hard to make a living in these parts."

Before Roger could say anything in response, she had picked up her bags again and was huffing down the street, still shaking her cup. He had a feeling he was nearing the apartment building, so he removed the ad out of his pocket and read over it briefly.

EAST VILLAGE 

_2 BR apt; 4th floor indust. Loft_

_full kitchen; 1 bath; hot water/heat_

_No AC; No pets_

_Rent $750/month_

_1108 11th Street and Avenue B_

_(212) 555-5598_

_Ask for Al Henderson_

He had scanned the _New York Times_ for the past week, hoping to come across something that was big enough, but cheap enough, to fit three people comfortably. He knew it would probably be himself until at least December, when he hoped he could convince Jen to live with him for the spring semester instead of living in a dorm. Most likely Mark wouldn't even live with them until four years from now, but he could always have the extra bedroom for him anyway, right? Just in case him came to visit on break.

Roger had cut out a few ads that previous week and set up appointments around the city. He would have rather had an apartment closer to Jen's dorm at NYU, but both of those had been rented out when he called the day after to inquire about them. Now his last hope seemed to be a man named Al Henderson, and soon enough he found himself in front of the four story industrial building. He double-checked the address before opening the shaded office door. He paused on the carpet, turning around to try and figure out where the hell he was supposed to meet this guy for his appointment. He walked down the hall some more, passing a gray haired man sitting at a desk inside an airy office. He was typing up something on a typewriter, but looked up immediately when he saw Roger's standing in the hallway.

"Well hello there. You're here about the apartment, I presume?" The man stood up and smiled warmly before walking out into the hall. He stuck out his hand. "Al Henderson, landlord."

"Roger Davis." Roger shook Al's hand loosely. "Yeah, I had an appointment for today? I talked to you on the phone last week?"

"Right, right." Al pulled a key out of his pocket and motioned for Roger to follow him. "Well, if you'll follow me, I'll show you the apartment and give you all of the basic information."

Roger climbed the three flights of stairs after Mr. Henderson. They finally reached the end of the cemented hall, right in front of an apartment marked 4A. Al gave the door a little kick with his foot and it creaked open.  
  


"Sometimes you have to give it a good push to get it open, but other than that, no problems." Al pocketed the key and waved Roger inside. "Come in, come in. I'll show you around."

Dust rose off the floor in the visible streams of light floating in through the two identical windows in the main living room. Roger caught a quick peek out of them and saw the people walking down on the streets below. A little further in the distance, he could make out the heavy traffic on Second Avenue. 

Al noticed Roger glancing around hesitantly and cleared his throat. "Sorry about the dust and clutter, but the apartment has been vacant for months and unfortunately I haven't gotten a good chance to clean lately. Well, the two bedrooms are over here—" He opened a door, allowing Roger to view an entirely empty room with one large window and an open closet. The beaten tan carpet was comfortably worn in and appeared to be clean, as far as he could tell anyway. The only thing that bothered Roger was the stifling air that circulated the room. He unzipped his leather jacket and took it off while Al continued speaking.

"This is basically the master bedroom, if you'd like to call it that. Pretty spacey. Usually if you leave that window open you get a cool breeze blowing through right over your bed." Al walked over and opened the window halfway. "Like the ad said, the rent is $750 a month and I collect it on the third of every month. But if you're interested in the place and you leave your $300 deposit with me, I'll waive the rent aside for the first month and you'd have to pay me the monthly rate on the third of November."

"Okay. Sounds good."

Al walked down the hall again and opened another door. "This is the second bedroom. Almost identical to the first, except the closet is switched to the other side and it's a little bit smaller in size. Same window and everything." For the next twenty minutes, Mr. Henderson continued showing Roger the apartment, pointing out various things here and there. He explained that the water heater for the shower was decent, but if Roger expected to take showers any longer than fifteen minutes, he was out of luck. The building heating would be turned on whenever the outside temperature dropped lower than fifty degrees to conserve energy. Al spent the last few minutes explaining that although there was no central air conditioning like the heating, he was in the process of installing two portable air conditioners in each apartment, and the fourth floor was next up to get them. 

"So, what do you think? Quite a big apartment for someone living by themselves," Al noted.

Roger shrugged. "Yeah. It might just be me for now, but I'm trying to get my girlfriend to move in with me. She just started at NYU last week."

"Well that's fine. The more the merrier, I always say."

"I like it a lot. Better than anything I've really seen around here."

"Oh, is that so?" Al nodded and shifted in place a little bit. "If you really like it, it's all yours. You'll just have to sign a few papers and give me your deposit by Friday, and we'll make it a deal."

"That's three hundred?"

"Sure is. Three hundred even, and then I'll just need the rent on November third."

"Definitely."

Al stuck out his hand and Roger shook it. "It's a deal then. Welcome to the building. Anything you need, I'm the man to see. Just come on down to my office so you can sign the paperwork and I'll give you your key."

Roger agreed, and minutes later he had signed the paperwork in Al's office and already had his new apartment key in his jean pocket. Al handed him pink copies of all the paperwork he signed and smiled.

"Alright Roger, I'll just need that deposit by Friday latest. Other than that, it was great doing business you. See you around, and feel free to move in whenever you'd like. My home number is on the back of those sheets, so in case anything goes haywire around here, give me a call and I'll take care of it."

"Thanks Al." 

"You're welcome. Take care of yourself kid."

Kid. He was eighteen—nineteen next month-- and just bought himself a place to live with his own money—as soon as he drove to the bank and withdrew the deposit, that was. Why was everyone still referring to him as a kid? He mentally shook himself and walked back out onto the street, where he quickly blended into the bustling crowds. He had to get on the subway so he could tell Jen about what he had just done. He had just bought an apartment, for himself. For Mark. For Jen. Roger couldn't get over that. He must have been practically glowing, because the next thing he felt was an impatient tap on his shoulder once again.

"Yeah?" The same homeless woman was standing in front of him, smiling. 

"So Mista, how'd ya appointment go? You get the apartment, or what?"

"Yeah. I did."

"Congratulations, Mista. Welcome to the East Village, home of the motherfuckin' artists and the poor. You'll fit in just fine, baby."

Roger practically laughed out loud over her sarcasm. People in the suburbs weren't this outspoken, although he knew a few that could give this woman a run for her money. "Thanks. Hey, what's your name?"

"Loretta, honey. What's yours?"

"Roger."

"Well Mista Roger, I better get a move on if I wanna get somethin' good to eat tonight at the shelter downtown. See ya later, baby. You take care of yourself now."

"I will." He tossed a few more crumpled bills into her cup.

"Thanks, sweetheart. You get goin' now. Your train's probably here already."

Roger watched her leave before descending the subway stairs. If he was going to be living in the East Village now, he might as well make the best of it.

*                                  *                          *                         *

Roger paused outside of his girlfriend's college dorm and knocked on the closed door. It was a little after four, and he didn't know what her schedule was that day. He just hoped that she was in her room right now, because aside from wanting to take her to dinner, he wanted to tell her the good news about the apartment.

He heard someone ruffling around inside and then the door opened. Jen appeared and smiled when she saw him.

"Hey. What are you doing here?" Her dark brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she was dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee shirt. 

Roger kissed her and followed her into the room as she shut the door. "Just wanted to see what you were up to."

"Oh yeah?" Jen moved the laundry basket off of her bed and onto the floor to give Roger some more room to stretch out. "Any luck in finding that apartment yet?"

He shrugged and grinned. "Maybe."

"Just maybe?" She laughed and cuddled up against him. "I miss you."

"I miss you too. Anything good happening around here?"

Jen shook her head. "Nope. Unless you count my roommate Marcy sneaking off with just about every member of the frat house as happening."

Roger laughed. "Definitely not."

"So are you telling me about this apartment or not?"

"Well I bought it. Rented it out, or whatever. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a full kitchen. Central heating, but no air conditioning as of right now. Al, the landlord, said he's installing two air conditioning units sometime next week so at least we'll have that for the summer."

Jen smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "That's great. It sounds nice. How much is it a month?"

He laughed nervously and looked at her. "Seven-fifty a month. Plus a three hundred dollar deposit I have to give him on Friday."

"Roger! Jesus Christ! That's expensive!" she shouted at him. "How can you afford that?"

"He's not making me pay rent until November third because of my deposit, so I'll be okay. I'll pull the leftover money from my summer job out of my bank account and use whatever's left. Plus, since I'm living in the city, I won't need my car, so I think I'm selling it. I should get three or four thousand from that. And I'm going to start looking for a new job."

Jen let out a long sigh. "Okay. As long as you're sure. But really, that's expensive—"

"The last guy wanted twelve hundred a month. I think I got a bargain. Plus, you'll be living with me and when you get a job we can both pay the rent. We'll make enough." Roger saw the look on his girlfriend's face as he finished and blinked, confused. "Right?"

"Rog, I can't move out of my dorm until December. It's paid in full until then. It would be a waste of money. Plus, I wasn't really going to look for a job until October. Classes just started up and everything. I'm having a hard time balancing already," she sighed. She saw the depressed look that had formed on Roger's face and ran her fingers through his hair. "But I promise, right before Christmas I'll move in with you. By then I'll have a job too, okay? So don't worry. I know this is making you really happy, and you deserve that babe. We're finally closer to each other. We'll all be okay. And hey, this summer Mark can live with us too. We'll make it. You can have some time to yourself to write music, and maybe you'll be able to play a few gigs around the city. You'll see."

"Yeah, I know. It's a lot of money though."

"Yeah it is," Jen agreed with him. "But you'll make it."

Roger kissed her again and nodded. "So what do you say about us going out to eat tonight? To celebrate and all, maybe?"

"Okay. Then you can tell me what you want for your birthday next month," she smiled, grabbing a pair of jeans and a gray sweatshirt out of her drawer. "Let me get changed and we'll go wherever you want." She yawned and headed into the bathroom.

Roger laid back on the bed and heard the sound of water running in the bathroom. He was almost nineteen years old. He had his own apartment in the city. He had a great, beautiful girlfriend. Things were finally starting to get back on track, and maybe his life wasn't such of a scattered mess anymore as he previously had thought.

*                              *                      *                           *

Benny dropped the magazine he was holding and popped another chip into his mouth. "Hey Mark, what the hell are you doing tonight?"

Mark opened one eye and shrugged. Classes and college life had really started to wear him down, so he was trying to sleep as much as he could, whenever he could. But when you had an outgoing and ambitious roommate like Benjamin Coffin, sleep was a joke.

"No idea," he yawned. "Sleeping. Maybe writing more of that paper for Lit."

"Man, why don't you come out with me to the frat house and get a head start on pledging? Or even if you don't want to do that, you could always just hang out with the guys. They seem to like you and all."

Mark loosely shook his shoulders and pulled a pillow over his face. "Benny, I'm tired. Maybe some other time."

Benny laughed, crumpled up the empty chips bag, and tossed it into the trash. "Suit yourself. Personally I think you need to get laid."

"Whatever works."

"Let me set you up with someone! I know a few of the sorority girls would love to be introduced to you. My girlfriend Jessica could set you up with one of her friends."

"After I get some sleep, okay Benny?"

Benny grinned and took that as a yes. "Sounds good. Hey, what about—" He was cut off by the sound of the phone ringing. "Hello?"

"Uh, is Mark there?"

"Yeah sure. Who's this?"

"Roger."

"Hold on man." Benny covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Mark, it's for you. Roger."

Mark sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Figures. Give it here."

Benny handed him the cordless phone and slid into his sneakers. "I'm going to the gym for a few. See you later tonight, and I'll let Jessica know."

"Yeah sure. Hello?" Mark spoke into the phone and yawned.

"Hey. What's up? How's college?"

"It's okay. What's up with you? And where are you?"

"I'm standing in the middle of my new apartment."

Mark sat up, shocked. All waves of exhaustion had been washed away and he grinned slowly. "What? You mean you actually rented out an apartment? When did this happen?"

"A few days ago. And I'm not really standing in the middle of my new apartment. I'm at home in Scarsdale with Jen packing up my room for when the movers come on Monday."

"Are you really serious? That's great. Is it a nice place?"

"Yeah, pretty nice." Roger filled him in on all the details quickly. "A little expensive, but nice. I'm gonna have to sell my car, but I wasn't planning on keeping it. Who needs a car in the city?"

"Yeah true. So I guess you're moving in on Monday then?"

"Yup. Looks like it."

"That's great." Mark tried to fake as much enthusiasm as possible, but the truth was, he was a little disappointed. Here he was, stuck in college and actually having to do work, while his best friend was free to do whatever he wanted in his new apartment. It was just a little depressing. Plus, being over three hours away from them didn't help any.

"You should come up as soon as you can to check it out. For the weekend, or something."

"Yeah, maybe I will." Mark looked over and noticed Benny waving for him to get off the phone. "Rog, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Tell Jen I said hi. And congratulations."

"Thanks. Bye."

"Bye." Mark hung up the phone and shot a look at Benny. "What do you want now?"

"Come to the gym with me. We can pick up chicks."

Mark shook his head and grabbed his workout clothes and stuffed them in his gym bag. "You mean I can pick up chicks. Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't help you. Who said anything about me helping myself?" Benny grinned mischievously.

"Right."

"So are you coming or not?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah. I'm coming."

*                              *                          *                            *

About the landlord: I never really figured that Mr. Grey owned the building at this point in time. For some reason, I always figured he came in sometime later and bought the current landlord out. Hence Al Henderson for now.

So what do you think? I know it might seem a little slow right now, but we'll be getting into the deeper stuff soon enough, I promise. It won't always be so happy and light.

Review! =]


	3. Good Intentions

CHAPTER 3

A/N: So sorry for the delay. I spent a little bit of time figuring out where I want this story to go and I think I have everything pretty well put together.

Thanks to EMI, Daydreamer731, Bearfeetz, Amy, Arch of Wand, and Jan for the reviews. Love you guys. 

Enjoy!

*                    *                 *                 *

OCTOBER 1989 

Roger sat up in his bed and yawned. "Jen?" He looked at the space next to him where she had been last night, and in his sleepy haze, realized that she was no longer there. 

"In here!" 

He heard footsteps running down the bare hallway and then his girlfriend appeared in the doorway, smiling. She was wearing one of his old jerseys that draped down to right above her knees and a pair of his socks, scrunched up to above her ankles.

"What are you doing?" Roger got out of the bed and pulled a pair of sweatpants on over his boxers. 

"Trying to make breakfast with whatever you bought this week. Which isn't much," Jen laughed. She kissed him on the cheek and crossed her arms over her chest. 

"Is that sausage?" 

She nodded as Roger walked into the kitchen and took a link right off the plate. He ate it and smiled. "It's good. I haven't had sausage in forever."

"Well the box has been sitting in your freezer for a week now. You could have made it yourself," she reminded him.

"Why make it myself when I have you?" he joked.

"Oh thanks," she grimaced. 

"Thank you baby," he laughed, kissing her before he could take a bite of the pancakes she had set in front of him. "Hey did Mark call?"

Jen nodded and sat down across from him at the small kitchen table. "Yeah. He called about an hour ago. He said he's leaving Providence around one and should be here around five latest. He mentioned that he was bringing someone with him, but the pay phone started cutting out and he was on his way to class."

"A girl?" Roger smirked as he downed another bite of his pancakes.

"I don't know. Maybe. Oh, and that record store called about your interview today. The person that's interviewing you has to do inventory or something and wants you to come around noon instead of two."

"What time is it now?" He asked her through a mouthful of sausage.

"10:45."

"Shit! I still gotta take a shower and get dressed." Roger quickly scrambled to finish his pancakes, eggs, and sausage, as well as his orange juice.  "What time do you have class?"

"From 2 to 3:30, so hopefully I'll be back before Mark gets here."

"Yeah." Roger carried the empty plate and placed it in the sink, letting some water run over it. "Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Can you make some more pancakes, eggs, and sausage for me?"

Jen raised an eyebrow and looked at him. "You didn't have enough?"

"No, I did. I just—make them for me? Please?" Roger begged her.

"Fine." She pushed him playfully towards the shower. "Go, you'll be late."

"Thanks," he grinned, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. 

"Ugh," Jen wiped at her cheek. "Thanks."

"Welcome."

*                                   *                             *                            *

Roger had managed to leave the loft somewhat on time after he showered and dressed. Once he stepped out of the apartment building, he was greeted with a warmer blast of early October air and unzipped his leather jacket. It had to be at least sixty five degrees out right now, and weather reports were claiming that it was supposed to reach the upper seventies.  He still had a few minutes before heading over to the record store where his interview would take place, so he made a quick detour into Tompkins Square Park. Roger felt around in his pocket for his wallet with his free hand, while with the other he was carrying a tinfoil covered paper plate.

He didn't know where to find Loretta this morning, so he figured the best place to start would be the park. He knew that she was always there with a few of her friends before they headed over to the homeless shelter on Second Avenue later in the day. Roger scanned the park briefly and found Loretta sitting across from a man at a picnic table, playing chess. He checked his watch. He still had ten minutes before he had to be at the record store. 

Loretta seemed to spot him right before he approached the table. She smiled brightly and tapped her companion on the shoulder. "Roger, baby! How are you? Haven't seen you in a few." She stood up and gave him a tight hug and kiss on the cheek. "This is my brother Freddy."

Roger looked down at Freddy and smiled. He was a little taken aback by the business suit and briefcase that was sitting on the bench next to him. He looked like he could easily afford to take Loretta into his home, but perhaps things weren't what they seemed. It wasn't his business why Loretta was homeless and Freddy clearly wasn't.

"Nice to meet you," he greeted the man, shaking his hand.

"Likewise." Freddy cleared his throat and stood up. "Well sis, I've got to get back to the office. My lunch break's almost up. Tomorrow, same time same place?"

"Of course baby. I'll see you then."

Roger sat down next to her and placed the plate in front of Loretta. "My girlfriend was cooking today so I figured I'd have her make some extra. I know how you like sausage."

Loretta laughed as she took off the tinfoil, revealing the pancakes, eggs, and sausage. "Oh Roger, you didn't have to do this for me…"

"But I wanted to," he grinned."

"Well thank you honey, I appreciate it. This was very kind of you. Where are you off to today?"

"Job interview," Roger sighed. "At a record store around the corner."

"Oh," Loretta laughed. "Welcome to the real world."

"Thanks. My interview's around noon, so I guess I better get going."

"You damn well better! I'm not letting you miss an interview because of me, sweetheart. You get goin' and you come and tell me sometime this week how things went, you hear?"

"You got it." Roger stood up and Loretta gave him another hug. "I'll see you soon."

"You better!"

*                                   *                                *                                       *

Benny drummed his fingers on the window of Mark's beat up Celica. "It's the end of the world as we know it…oh fucking perfect, don't tell me we're hitting traffic again," he complained. He stopped singing along to the radio and stuck his head out the window.

Mark sighed and shook his head. "Did I tell you that you're the worst person to take on a car trip, let alone a three hour one?"

"Ah, you don't mean that. Besides, if I wasn't here, you'd be bored."

"Better being bored than listening to you," Mark mumbled under his breath.

"What?" Benny asked him.

"Nothing. Just singing along to the radio." Mark weaved the car into a proper toll booth line and sighed. "At least we're almost out of Connecticut."

"I hate Connecticut."

Mark shrugged and pulled up in the line as cars paid the tolls and passed through. "We're almost out."

"Good. So this friend of yours, Roger, he's turning nineteen?"

"Yup. Nineteen today."

"Now that really makes me feel old," Benny complained. "Man, I'll be twenty-two and graduated this year. You believe that? It felt like just yesterday I had graduated high school."

Mark laughed. "I did just graduate high school yesterday. Or maybe four months ago. You know what I mean."

Finally, they had reached the tollbooth window. "One dollar please," the short, balding man told them in broken English.

Benny pulled a crumpled up dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it over to Mark, who in turn handed it to the man. "There ya go."

"Erm, this here looks a little funky to me. You sure this is a real dollar bill, and none of that fancy European money? Canadian maybe?" The tollbooth man held the bill up to the light.

Mark stared at the man and shook his head. "Uh, no sir. That's an official American dollar, as far as we're concerned."

"Huh. Well I'm gonna have to get this here bill checked out. I'll put in a call to my supervisor and—" the man was cut off as the car behind Mark's started honking profusely. He leaned out the window and waved at the car. "Be quiet! I'm just trying to do my goddamn American job!"

"Is this guy for real or what?" Mark mumbled to Benny.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me. Now I actually have a reason to hate Connecticut. Before I just didn't like the state." Benny fumbled around in his jeans pocket and counted out four quarters into his hand. "That American enough for you, buddy?"

The man squinted at the change that Mark had just handed to him and shrugged. "Can I see some identification?" 

Benny slammed his hands down on the dashboard. "It's a fucking dollar! One dollar! We're just trying to get to New York City. You want a fucking Visa card, or what? Holy shit!"

Mark started laughing and shaking his head. "Hey uh, look, it's just a dollar. It's either the dollar bill or the four quarters. Look, we really don't have time—"

"Oh, so you think I have time to stand here and talk about how you're giving me, Miguel, fake currency for this toll both! No sir, you do not fool Miguel one bit…"

Benny sighed and looked over. "Mark, gun it. Just go. Put the goddamn pedal to the metal and shift this baby into high gear. Now."

"Benny I can't—"

"Dammit Mark, if you won't I will!"

Mark sighed. "See ya, Miguel. Keep the change." He pressed on the gas and sped out of the toll line and onto the parkway.

"Hey! You cannot do that! Oh misters you are in so much trouble! I get the state police on your ass! Yes!"

*                                      *                            *                              *

Roger heard the ding of a distant bell go off when he pulled open the door to the record store. 

"Claire, you want to get those boxes out of the back and actually into the store? Sometime today?"

A brunette with blonde and red streaked hair brushed past Roger and made her way behind the counter. "Sorry Wes. Didn't know you had a stick up your ass today." Claire looked over at Roger and stared at him. "Can I help you with something?"

"Um, yeah. I have an interview with Wes Marcaly at noon," Roger told her nervously.

"Oh okay. Have a look around hon. Wes will be out in a sec." She started playing with the cash register, so Roger started walking up and down the aisles, checking out the various compact discs, videocassettes, and vinyl records. Each was in a separate section by type and genre, and all sections were alphabetized. Roger noted that it wasn't a very professional store, but it had a ton of quality music. He realized that he'd be better off working in an environment like this one, where he didn't have to adhere to a dress code or worry about a boss hovering over his shoulder every five minutes.

Not even two minutes later, a man with jet black spiky hair and a pierced eyebrow walked out from the back room and into the store itself. The tag on his Guns 'N Roses shirt read Wes in graffiti letters. "I'm looking for a Roger Davis?" he called out.

Roger walked over. "That's me."

Wes stuck out his hand. "Hey Roger, I'm Wes. You're here for the interview?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds good. Follow me into the back and we'll get started. It probably won't take that long," Wes told him as he led Roger into a small office. Papers and random cds were scattered across it, and posters of bands lined the walls. Roger sat down in the black chair across from the desk and waited for Wes to sit down across from him.

"So let's keep this casual. I hate getting interviewed for anything, so I know how you probably feel man. Why don't you clue me in on some of your favorite bands?"

Not a very hard question. Roger gave it some brief thought before responding. "Aerosmith, Guns 'N Roses, AC/DC, and Metallica. I guess a few others, too."

Wes grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "Good bands. You'll fit right in here. Granted you'll probably get a few teenybopper kids from time to time looking for New Kids on the Block, but you sound like you know what you like to listen to. Where are you from?"

"Scarsdale, New York. You?"

"Brooklyn. Born and raised. Then I moved here to try and get some sort of college education. That didn't work out, so I dropped out my freshman year last year. My cousin Troy owns this place, but he took off to Los Angles for the year so things are pretty much in my hands."

Roger was starting to really warm up to this guy. Wes seemed pretty cool for only being twenty years old. He could tell they probably had a lot of things in common. "So basically it's your ass if you fuck it up, right?"

Wes laughed and nodded. "You sound like my mother. Wesley Nicholas, if I catch you with another pack of cigarettes in my house your ass is grounded!" he mimicked. "Well that all changed when I got my own apartment."

"Yeah."

"So what do you say, Roger? I told you it wasn't a very hard interview. You interested in coming and working for me here at Intentions?"

Wow. Roger couldn't believe he had gotten the job so fast. "Yeah. Sounds good to me."

"Great." Wes shook Roger's hand again and stood up. "Basically, you'll be working part time everyday except Fridays and Sundays. I'll sit down and set up your schedule this weekend so you can start on Monday. I usually try to alternate everybody around, so you'll either work opening until mid afternoon, or mid afternoon until closing time. Depends on what I have for you. You could do a nine to three shift, or a three to eight, or a five to eleven. We're open until midnight the whole weekend though."

Roger nodded. "Okay. 

"All right Roger, I'll see you Monday. Welcome to Intentions, man." 

"Thanks."

Roger left shortly after he filled out a few forms at the desk for Wes. This was somewhat of a good birthday present. He actually had a real job now—something that he could potentially enjoy. Being nineteen and an adult apparently had its perks.

*                              *                            *                              *

Review please! =]


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